Lie This Time
by cherie136
Summary: In all honesty, she didn’t know why she came there in the first place. Maybe she missed him, she wanted to be closer to him, or was it work-related, a consult maybe? She didn’t know anymore.


**Lie this time**

Beads of water rolled down the smooth, transparent glass panels outside Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Maybe was it this same rain, or maybe also this foggy feeling that seemed to heve overtaken her mind, but she felt rather down lately. She wasn't the fluffly little naive girl, who still believed in love, universal peace and black and white settings, whatever House might say. But working in the ER was sometimes more than she could take. After working for three months down there, one would have thought she would have that somewhat strong, but still fragile, shell that forms through rough times. She did. But cracks, fine little lines, were starting to show up on the surface, letting the harsh words of an angry patient, the empty eyes of a beaten child, the cadevric coldness of death, break into the soft flesh that constituted her heart, digging the knife deeper and deeper, only worsening the pain she felt.

(She didn't want to feel anymore)

The soles of her sneakers produced a slight squeaking sound, which would have been unperceptible if only there was some action in this lifeless 4th floor corridor. But, unfortunately for her, night time on the superior floors were filled with anguish, damp silence and cold darkness. The ER wasn't much better, only a little more lighted and stressful. She missed her high heel and calm work.

(Even though the heels tortured her feet and the work was anything but calm)

Looking around the hollow, dark hallways, she felt a little out of tune. Well, maybe not exactly this... Maybe it felt exactly like she thought her life was, strange, dark, uneventful and sad. She could see the patients sleeping through the windows in their rooms. She wondered what brought them her: cancer, untreatable diseases, mortal infections... She knew she wasn't able to be optimistic like before, like she was a simple new fellow in diagnostics. Done were the days where she still believed that her job still made a difference in the world, that, sometimes, she could change someone's life. Only now, she scarcely caught herlself, daydreaming about what could be, when the part of her brain (that sounded suspiciously like her father), the logical side of her that seemed to have developed quite exponantly over the last few months, told her to save her thoughts for later, that it weren't worth it.

(But the still naive side of her, however small may have it become, was still screaming to believe in fairytales and knight in shining armour)

And there she was, outside his office. A little light shone in the darkness. Good, he was there. She began to walk more slowly, as though she didn't want to be heard by him, in case he would have the sudden urge to run away. She knew it wasn't likely to happen, but, somewhere in her mind, there was that nagging feeling that made her insecure at the prospect of seeing him once again. Butterflies flew in her stomach.

(Lame imagery to make but she really felt like a colony of bugs took place somewhere in her digestive system)

Coming at a halt outside his office, she heard music notes. Well, it was more a melody actually. Beethoven... The piano kind of succeeded to calm her, but it wasn't quite enough, in her state of internal panic. Taking a deep breath, she silently opened the door. The scene befuddled her. House, spraled on the carpet, his cane on the chair, was listening, content and closed-eyed, to the music. She hadn't seen him so calm, so normal since... well, ever.

(And it was then, it still was, one of the last things she would forget about him)

"What do you do here?"

She let a surprised sound coming out of her mouth, turning around briskly.

"You know, you nearly gave me a heart attack?", she said, a hand on her heart.

"Well, the odds of a perfectly healthy 30-years old woman to have a heart attack are slim. And you were the one to slip into my office, not me.", he responded, with a sleepy voice that just could be put on the account of his recent nap. Not a ounce of sarcasm in there. Weird.

She tried to turn around his body laying on the carpet, but she was caught by his firm hand. Looking at the point where their skins touched, she could almost see the porcelain epiderm turn red. How she had dreamt about this moment, in the last few months. But, now, in reality, it seemed so much more uncomfortable than fabulations.

(The tension was so palpable; she didn't want to be the one to break it)

"You didn't answer my question?"

She was brought to reality by the low timber of his voice, reverberating inside her ears. She looked at him blankly, not knowing what she did come here for. He had that effect on her.

Remembering his hand on her arm, she disengaged, a blush spreading aroun her face and shoulders. She felt a little bit hot, and she didn't think it had to do with the vasodilatation due to her embarrassement. But as she went to walk over to his desk, putting a little distance between them, she felt his fingers returning on her arm. He looked at her with expectant eyes. Waiting for an answer.

(And she felt transperced by his mind. She didn't like the feel of it. But she never wanted it to end)

"I...ummmm."

In all honesty, she didn't know why she came there in the first place. Maybe she missed him, she wanted to be closer to him, or was it work-related, a consult maybe? She didn't know anymore. His eyes traveled up her body, from the jonction of their hands, to her face. She felt more and more uncomfortable each second. She tried to make up an intelligent answer for his question, as she saw he was starting to get annoyed. She didn't have much luck.

"Bagatelle.", she stuttered, well aware that he would just have to look her in the eye to know that she was lying. Damn her parents for bringing her up as a honest, little perfect girl who never lied.

He looked at her with a questioning glance.

(If only he stopped to look at her with his eyes, maybe she wouldn't get pushed into this mess they were)

"Wanted to know if we could meet for bagatelle next lunch?"

She smacked her head, mentally of course. Why did she have to be so honest? She still berated herself, when she heard a soft voice talking.

"Yeah"

She took softly his arm off her arm, for the second time in that day. Walking toward the door, she smiled at him. Through her head flashed a ton of thoughts.

(But she didn't care. Because she had him to think about, and everything else would go away)

"Noon?"

She was glad she had to lie this time.


End file.
